All Mine

The memories aren't his, but mine...
What a revelation!

The Bearded One has always expressed his disbelief that I've saved all of Stubble's kindergarten and 1st grade homework.  In acid free portfolios. I kind of wondered too.  Why every time I took one of those portfolios to dispose of it, I just couldn't do it.  Now I come closer to understanding because I read a book last week.  And here is the line that gave me insight:

"It wasn't yours.  It was mine.  You didn't even remember..."
Sharon Fiffer (Buried Stuff)

It is so true.  I'm mightily sure that Stubble doesn't remember the HOURS that we spent on early-el homework.  The tears (his), the tears (mine), the bribes.  The testy conference with the teacher during which I expressed my displeasure and made the announcement that I would not force Stubble to do 3 hours of homework a night.  In kindergarten.

Said the teacher, "It should only take 15 minutes."

Maybe so, but by the time Stubble had drawn a picture and written 2 sentences about it (phonetically) hours had passed.  Tear filled hours.

Now mind you, Stubble never drew a picture that went quickly. There were many elements to his pictures - little details of great significance to him.  Into which he put a great deal of thought and which required detailed explanations.  An hour to do the drwaing and explain it to me.  Then one hour each for the two (phonetically spelled) sentences to describe the picture.  It might have been easier to (phonetically) write an entire paragraph so that no detail was left out.

And now, just yesterday, I read an article on an online news feed about how recent research has found that early elementary homework doesn't improve learning!  I could have told them that 22 years ago.